Unravelling The Hitman: A BWWM Romance Read online

  Angel chuckled. When Humphries’ gaze slammed into her, she lifted a hand to hide it, but the joy still sparkled in her eyes.

  My chest hollowed as if my ribs had been pried apart one-by-one, leaving nothing but dark air and a rapidly beating heart.

  The things I would do to get her smiling like that again…

  Humphries balked. “I’m not staying with some stranger I’ve never met.”

  “Then should I?” Angel smirked and lifted her chin. “He’s not a stranger to me.”

  The feelings that had crept over me in the office returned with a vengeance. Nothing made sense, but it was the most exquisite confusion.

  “Fine.” Humphries stepped between us, breaking the connection.

  I could have offed him right there.

  “Fine?” Angel asked.

  “We’ll both stay at his place. If you’ve got the room.” He tossed me a look of challenge.

  “Plenty of room.” I jutted my chin forward. “Angel’s bags. Where are they?”

  He bristled but answered reluctantly. “I left them in a restaurant locker.”

  “Get them and meet us at Belizean Cigars.” I cast a glance at the darkening sky. “We need to get moving before we lose anymore light.” I could handle sailing, but I avoided getting on the sea at night. Too many variables.

  “I’ll need some help,” Humphries said, edging up on Angel. “Would you come with me?”

  “Dada.” Reid began to squirm. He’d tired of the conversation.

  You and me both kiddo.

  Angel smiled at Reid and then met my gaze. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait.” I set Reid down and held his hand. “I’ll walk you both back to the shop and help Humphries with the bags.”

  “I thought you were in a rush,” Humphries taunted.

  I frowned. “Let’s go.”

  We moved silently to the shop. Angel did not walk beside me, but she wasn’t exactly beside Humphries either so I didn’t complain.

  When I shifted routes and moved us toward the back door, she quickened her step. “Isn’t the shop that way?”

  “We’ll have customers this time of day.” I stopped in front of the grill door and wrapped my knuckles against it. “The smoke isn’t good for Reid so I can’t take him through the front.”

  “Right.” She seemed impressed.

  Rasheed opened the door for us. “Boss.”

  “Take Reid to the office. I’ll be right back.”

  “Come here, buddy.” Rasheed accepted my son and glanced around. “Angel.” A welcoming smile spread on his lips. “You’re back.”

  “Looks like you can’t get rid of me just yet.”

  “Whatever happened, I’m happy it led you back here.”

  Both Humphries and I scoffed.

  Angel turned to me. “See you soon.”

  I nodded.

  She followed Rasheed inside.

  The door locked with a solemn click.

  “Who was that guy?” Humphries mumbled in annoyance.

  Rasheed and Angel’s friendliness got under my skin as well, but it was not a question that required an answer.

  I straightened and started moving. “Lead the way.”

  Humphries grunted but obediently trudged back to the main road.

  We arrived at the restaurant and he got the bags. In less than three minutes, the chore was done.

  On the way back, Humphries kept looking at me.

  “Do you have something to say?” I asked.

  “It’s about Angel.” He stopped, forcing me to look at him. “She’s mine so I’d appreciate it if you back off.”

  “Angel is your woman?”

  Humphries dipped his head once.

  I strode ahead. “Too bad.”

  “What?” Humphries rushed to keep up with me. “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll just have to take her from you.”

  9

  Angel

  “Do you want anything to drink?” Rasheed asked, returning to the room with a juice pouch and a fruit snack for Reid. He handed it to the baby who plopped down and began munching contentedly.

  “Is it good?” I asked Reid.

  He bobbed his head.

  I smiled and glanced at Rasheed. “I’ll take water if you have that.”

  “Sure thing.” He disappeared through the door and returned a minute later with bottled water.

  “Thanks.” I accepted it from him, popped the cap and took a long, refreshing guzzle.

  While I drank, my eyes roved Deacon’s office. My cheeks heated when I caught sight of the desk, the birthplace of the naughtiest thoughts I’d ever had in my life.

  A memory of Deacon hoisting me up paraded through my mind. He’d asked if I’d wanted to be his hostage and slid his calloused fingers up my thigh.

  Speaking of, I needed to change this bathing suit.

  My eyes slid to the desk again. I could almost feel Deacon, hovering over me, his hands guiding my legs apart.

  Was it getting hot again?

  I fanned my face.

  “Oh, here.” Rasheed grabbed the air conditioner’s remote, incorrectly assuming the flush on my face was from the heat in the room. “Is that better?”

  I gritted my teeth in a pained smile, glad he couldn’t read my mind. “Yeah.”

  Forcing my gaze away from the desk, I surveyed the rest of the office. It was surprisingly spacious even though I got the sense it wasn’t that big.

  A medium-sized desk stood in the center. Paintings of Caribbean life framed the wall—a sprawling sunset, a blue horizon mirrored in the sea, a thatch hut with a breezy hammock mid-swing. Fake plant in the corner. Desktop computer.

  It would have resembled any other boring office if not for the little touches that Reid’s belongings brought to the room. The playpen, hopscotch mat, and toy box whispered that both child and man lived here in harmony.

  “Need anything else?” Rasheed asked, watching me as I observed the office.

  I chuckled, embarrassed. “No.” In the distance, music played. Laughter rang out. “Do you have customers?” I frowned. “I’m not keeping you from work, am I?”

  “At night, I’m just the manager. Someone else is handling the front. Also,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “if I know Boss, he’d rather I stay here and make sure you and Reid are okay. We’ve had enough incidents today.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Boss might not see it that way.” He blew out a breath.

  I studied his face. The bushiness of his moustache contrasted the innocence in his eyes. With his tattoos, long dreads, and smooth brown skin, Rasheed could pass as a mature twenty-year-old or a young thirty-year-old. I couldn’t tell.

  “What?”

  “Does he… scare you too?” I wondered aloud.

  “Boss?” Rasheed chuckled. “Not as much as you.”

  “I’m not afraid of him,” I answered instantly.

  “Of course.” The smile on his face said he didn’t believe me.

  “Fine. I’ll admit,” I shrugged, “he was… intimidating when we first met. In a way, he still is. But when we were out there,” I pointed to the street, “he was the first one to push me to safety and run into danger to protect us, to protect me. He told me he has my back.”

  Rasheed took a chair and dragged it over. “Sounds like you got his attention. I wonder what’s different about you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Boss has a… lot of admirers. Ladies run in here thinking they can snag him. I remember this one time, a customer wanted to buy out the entire store in exchange for his number.”

  “That’s extreme, but I can believe it.”

  “Are you two…?” Rasheed raised both eyebrows in silent inquiry.

  “It’s nothing like that. He’s just grateful I saved his son from a golf cart.”

  “Right.”

  I smirked. “Sarcasm.”

  “I’d like to think it’s a gift.”

  “Trust
me. I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

  “Might try letting Boss know that before you go any further.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  I shifted, feeling exposed. This place didn’t have any cameras, did it? Rasheed didn’t know about what happened on that desk?

  My eyes flew to the corners.

  What if there were cameras here? What if Deacon was watching me now?

  It didn’t feel so far off. Deacon’s presence was imprinted on everything around me, as if he was near.

  Gathering my courage, I asked the burning question. “Is he even free to date? What about Reid’s mother?”

  “I don’t know. Boss doesn’t talk about her. I assumed she was dead. If she’s alive, she hasn’t made any attempts to visit her son in the two years that I’ve known them.”

  I frowned, my chest stirring with sorrow. Dead or abandoned, either option was a tragedy. “He’s very protective of Reid, isn’t he?”

  “Boss? Yeah. The kid is his world. I remember once, Reid was sick so Boss brought him to the hospital and stayed by his side for three days. He didn’t shower or eat or anything. He just stood there, watching over his kid.”

  Reid babbled happily as if adding to the story.

  I acknowledged the baby with a nod. “He’s a good father.”

  “That he is.”

  I ran my finger over the bottle’s ridged lining and thought about the way he’d slayed Peter in the street. “But is he… a good man?”

  Rasheed tipped his chin to the ceiling. “Boss has a lot of secrets.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  The door burst open before I could ask more questions. Deacon and Humphries edged into the room.

  I shot up, my eyes landing on my duffel. “You got it!”

  “Here.” Deacon handed the bag over.

  “Thank you so much.”

  Our eyes met.

  “You’re welcome, Angel.”

  The way he said. My. Damn. Name.

  My breath hitched.

  Every bone in my body turned to mush.

  How was I still so affected by him?

  “I was the one who stored it safely for you,” Humphries said loudly.

  “Thank you too.” I backed away from the men. “I’ve been dying to change into proper clothes.” Running around in my bathing suit had worked when the sun was out, but few people dressed like this after dark.

  “Be quick,” Deacon said firmly. “We need to move out.”

  “I will.”

  Sprinting to the bathroom, I peeled out of my bathing suit and changed into a T-shirt and shorts. With trepidation, I stared at the bottom of my bag. Since I hadn’t planned on an overnight trip, I hadn’t brought extra clothes. At least I’d been smart enough to pack an emergency set of panties.

  Thank you, Mama for drilling that into my head.

  I emerged from the bathroom and met the guys in the office. With a hand to my hip, I posed. “Ready.”

  Having expected Deacon to check me out—just a little—I was disappointed when he popped up without a glance and motioned for Reid.

  It was Humphries who trotted over and leaned in to whisper, “You look beautiful, Angel.”

  “It’s just shorts and a T-shirt,” I grumbled, stomping away from him.

  Deacon fitted Reid into a cute jacket, tugged a beanie over his head and then lifted him up. Rasheed crossed over and snagged a set of keys from the hook on the wall.

  “Rasheed—”

  “Already called the marina, Boss.”

  The corners of Deacon’s lips curled up. “I can always count on you.”

  “The least I can do.”

  Deacon strode forward. “Forget about what happened today. It all worked out.”

  “I’ll still make it up to you.” Rasheed gestured to me. “Do you want me to carry your bag?”

  “I’ve got it!” Humphries dove for my pouch like it was gold. He tore it from my fingers and hoisted it in the air. It tumbled like a sack, the ugliest trophy.

  Everyone shifted from awkwardness.

  “Okay then.” Deacon jerked his head to the door.

  We followed him into the twilight and out toward a private marina nearby. The security at the front gate greeted us warmly as he let us in. I saw Reid waving at him and the guy waving back.

  Looked like they frequented this place.

  Our footsteps pattered against the wooden pier. My gaze caught and snagged on the gorgeous horizon. Moonlight spilled over black waters. A cool breeze shifted through the trees and created its own, magical melody.

  “This way,” Deacon said, putting his hand on the small of my back when I lagged behind.

  His touch sparked electricity in my spine that travelled all the way to my toes. I straightened and leaned away from him to keep that from happening again.

  Deacon didn’t seem to notice.

  He led us to a beautiful vessel. I had absolutely zero knowledge about boats, but it was shiny and sturdy-looking. Which was all I needed to know.

  Humphries helped me into the boat and we found a seat near the stern. I wiggled my fingers toward Reid, who looked adorable in the life jacket Deacon put on.

  “Do you need me to hold him?” I asked.

  “Wear this life jacket first.” With Reid in one hand, Deacon approached and slipped one of my arms into the safety vest.

  I breathlessly finished the rest.

  “What about me?” Humphries demanded.

  Deacon tossed him a life vest. It caught him in the chest and bounced away, landing on the ground. “There,” Deacon said without a backward glance.

  Humphries glared at him.

  I pulled my lips in to keep from laughing.

  Deacon turned to me. Moonlight spilled over his short haircut and turned his green eyes to burning silver. “Are you ready?”

  I averted my gaze and reached for the baby.

  Deacon held him back, forcing me to look at his face. I noticed how close we were and shivered. In the dimness, he looked like a rogue pirate. Like someone who could hurt my body and my heart.

  Do you want to be my hostage, Angel?

  The answer to that question, beyond all reasonable doubt, was veering close to ‘yes’. I didn’t know if I should voice that or not.

  Probably not.

  Definitely not.

  Fear and attraction.

  Warring conflicts.

  I had no idea what the night would bring, but one thing was certain, wherever Deacon was adventure was sure to follow.

  10

  Deacon

  I’d had more than enough commotion for one day. Thankfully, the ride back to the villa was incident-free.

  I lifted my chin and sucked in a deep breath of the salty, Caribbean air. Lights formed in the distance, shiny blobs that hinted of warmth. Soon, the lights came into sharp focus, blazing from the porch.

  I cut the boat’s engine and let the tide slap against the hull, nudging us into the channel that flowed to the dock. Mangroves pressed close to the water, squeezing us in like pedestrians on a narrow street. Insects belted out a song that soaked the air.

  A figure rose from the bushes, a stalwart statue in the night. When we got closer to the dock, I nodded at him.

  He responded with a slow dip of his chin.

  Shuffling sounded behind me. I focused on docking safely and relied on my other senses to identify who approached.

  Heavy steps. Loud breathing.

  Humphries.

  “Is that a ghost?”

  Annoyance tightened my fingers on the wheel. The man hadn’t spoken since I’d announced my plan to steal Angel away. Instead, he’d clung to her, acting like a child who was about to lose his favorite toy.

  My challenge had backfired. I should have left Humphries in the dark and taken Angel on my own. Maybe then, I would not have been forced to witness his invasion of her space.


  “Who is he?” Humphries insisted.

  “Miguel.” I looked at the man standing on the dock, trying to appraise him from a stranger’s perspective. He wore a light brown T-shirt and pants rolled up at the cuffs. The wind tugged his thick brown hair and bushy beard.

  “Is that your servant or something?”

  I bristled.

  Humphries laughed awkwardly. “I was just joking.”

  “Go and sit down.”

  Humphries narrowed his eyes.

  I sighed and added, “Please.”

  As his footsteps trotted away, I grabbed the rope and swung it to Miguel. He caught it easily and, with practiced ease, tied it to the post.

  The boat bobbed contentedly, glad to be home.

  Turning back to the passengers, my eyes found Angel. She sat with her head dipped to her chest and her eyes closed. The gentle breeze flung tendrils of her straight black hair over her nose and cheeks. Despite the illusion of rest, she gripped Reid tightly, shifting whenever he did.

  “Angel.” Humphries shook her shoulder. “I think we’re here.”

  I strode toward them and crouched in front of her. Regret stabbed my heart. It must have been cold on the ride here. I’d bundled Reid up properly, but I hadn’t thought to give her a blanket until now.

  “Were you cold?” I asked solemnly, unable to keep the bite of irritation out of my voice. This was not a question I should have asked at the end of our journey.

  Angel jumped. “No.”

  “Are you sure?” I demanded.

  She nervously batted her hair away from her face. “I was fine. Really.” Tilting her chin, she frowned. “Why are you so angry?”

  I remained silent, cursing my lack of attentiveness.

  Humphries’ presence had thrown me off my game. Angel’s comfort should have been a priority, right alongside my son’s.

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  I angled my head down and spied Reid sleeping peacefully in her arms.

  “I’ve got him,” she said, pulling my son possessively to her chest.

  “Are you sure? He’s heavy.”

  As if to prove her point, Angel stood and strode assuredly toward the pier, holding Reid’s head on her shoulder. I stood and watched her, a proud smile angling on my lips.

  Stunning. Strong. She was everything I’d ever wanted in a woman.